


That Ancient Serpent

by Namarie



Series: That Ancient Serpent [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Prophecy, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-05-19 10:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19355008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: As Lucifer and Chloe grapple with the meaning of the prophecy, Lucifer also struggles to deal with the consequences of his own self-hatred. All of that is before a group of cultists decide it's time for another, more ancient prophecy to be fulfilled...An AU that takes place right between 4x08 "Super Bad Boyfriend" and 4x09 "Save Lucifer".





	1. Chapter 1

~  
He knew Linda would have given him more time if he’d asked for it – he knew she was worried about him. But there was no point staying there. This ‘breakthrough’, if something so devastating could really be called such a thing, wasn’t one that he could face with an audience. Not even Linda.

The trouble was, Lucifer thought as he left the Doctor’s office, he had no idea where to go. He didn’t know whether Eve would still be at the penthouse or not; he wasn’t going to force her to leave, but if she hadn’t packed up and found somewhere else, she definitely wasn’t someone he wanted to be around. She didn’t deserve him inflicting himself on her, either.

He wasn’t in the mood for sitting at his own bar, though the drinking part would have been very appealing, and the noises of the club would help drown out the noise in his head as usual. But that wasn’t going to be enough tonight. He couldn’t imagine seeking out the Detective, either. And Amenadiel had more than enough weighing on him right now; he didn’t need his wayward brother alarming him with any of the discoveries he’d made recently. So. Although he hated the sight of them (as he hated everything else about himself), perhaps this was an occasion for allowing his wings to carry him far enough away from here to get himself out of his own head – for at least a little while. If that was even possible anymore. First, he needed to turn off his phone. He debated leaving it right where he was standing in an alley, but in the end, he put it back in his pocket. He didn’t want to do anything too overdramatic. He wasn’t going to just give up, after all. 

With a quick glance to make sure there were no mortals watching him, Lucifer unfurled his monstrous wings and launched himself into the air. He didn’t really think about a direction or a goal. He just flew. And flew until he was getting close to tired, and finally, most of the lights of LA were no longer visible beneath him. He chose a random hill that was still near some populated areas and landed.

The night was quiet out here, with a hint of a brisk wind that made him glad he hadn’t taken off his suit jacket. Sighing, Lucifer looked around. It was dark, of course, but when was the last time darkness had been a problem to him? With an angry huff of laughter, he folded his wings and went to sit down under a lone tree. Maybe he could at least sleep for a few hours out here. With no one forcing their expectations of who he should be onto him, perhaps he could rest. And then he could try to start dealing with this truth he’d uncovered. Much as he would prefer to go back to ignoring it and blaming all his problems on other people – mostly his father.

He rubbed a hand over his face. Perhaps, with a little bit of time, this revelation that he hated himself could actually be a good thing. Yes. He seized onto that tiny shred of hope. After all, Linda had been so insistent that this was progress. Could it be possible that, now that he knew this one fact, the rest of his problems could be solved? He had a feeling Linda would have some things to say about that, if he put that theory to her.

Despite his continued mental and emotional turmoil, Lucifer must have eventually fallen asleep. He knew this because he was awakened suddenly and rudely just after dawn the next morning, by someone shouting right next to his head.

“I think we’ve found him!”

Groaning, Lucifer cracked open one eye and looked up at the offending human. “Excuse me,” he growled. “Some people are trying to sleep here.”

The man ignored his statement, though he did meet Lucifer’s gaze. “Are you Lucifer Morningstar?”

There were more people coming. So much for a relatively isolated place, Lucifer thought with a sigh. He sat up, grimacing at the ache in his neck from sleeping on the ground. It wasn’t quite as bad as when he’d woken up in the middle of the desert, but it was unpleasant. “Yes, that’s me. What do you want? If you’ve tracked me down for a favor, I’m really not in the mood at this particular moment – nor am I inclined to oblige someone quite this rude.”

Once again, the man seemed unbothered by Lucifer’s reaction. In fact, he seemed excited. “It’s him!” he shouted over his shoulder. Something in the tone of his voice made Lucifer get to his feet quickly. And now that he was more awake, Lucifer saw that all five – no, seven of the men who were now gathered around him were wearing rather odd clothing. It was like they were trying to dress like medieval monks, apart from the modern footwear.

“All right,” said Lucifer, allowing his tone to become dangerous, “it seems like you don’t want a favor, after all. But I’ll do you one, anyway, and tell you all to sod off, right now. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.” His eyes flashed red.

Nearly all of the men flinched at that. But instead of screaming or running away, they all looked at each other, and then back at Lucifer. “Actually,” said one of the men – not the first one who had found him under the tree, but the one in the center of the group, “now we do know for sure. And we thank you for this honor, great Prince.”

“What?” Lucifer stared at them. That was when he noticed that under their long, voluminous, ugly robes, several of these bizarre humans had been concealing even more bizarre weapons. They looked almost like harpoon guns.

Just as Lucifer was readying himself for a fight and allowing himself a second of relief that the Detective was nowhere nearby, the four men with the bizarre guns fired them. Lucifer staggered. They were not harpoon guns. They seemed to have each shot one length of chain to wrap securely around each of his four limbs. And these chains…

“Yes, these are hell-forged chains, great Prince,” said the man who had thanked him for the ‘honor’ before. “They are sacred treasures that our sect have held onto for generations, for this very moment.”

They would try to use hell-forged chains on _him_? Furious, Lucifer let out a snarl and pulled against the chains. He couldn’t break them, no, but he could break these fools’ grip on them. The men holding the guns staggered this time, with cries of alarm that only increased in volume when Lucifer tried again to wrench the chains out of their grip. A few of them were very close to falling to the ground. He bared his teeth.

“Now!” the one who had just spoken called out, a second later, as he desperately clung to his length of iron. And then, just as Lucifer had succeeded in dragging two of his would-be captors to the ground, another member of the group rushed forward, toward the side that Lucifer hadn’t just freed. Lucifer didn’t have time to see exactly what the man was holding – something large and weaponish, was all he could tell – before the man swung it at his head. After that, there was a moment of shock and pain, and then blackness.

~

When Lucifer next woke up, the situation in which he found himself made him long for the simple discomfort of waking up after sleeping outside on the ground. The cultists, whoever they were, had used the time while he was unconscious to bring him into what appeared to be an old, abandoned warehouse. He was lying in the middle of the building, on his stomach, and his arms and legs were still wrapped in those infernal (literally) chains. Only now he was spread-eagle, with the chains pulled taut so that he couldn’t move much, and the cultists had removed his jacket and shirt. The concrete floor of the warehouse was cold. Lucifer shivered. He tried, futilely, to pull against the chains and break them. His head still felt strange, from whatever they had struck him with. This was the second time in recent memory that he’d been knocked unconscious and carried off somewhere, and he was already intensely bored of it.

A few minutes later, Lucifer heard footsteps approaching. As a result of how he was tied down, it wasn’t very easy for him to lift his head, but he did so – just in time to see the man who was apparently the leader of this band of lunatics approaching. He was still wearing those ridiculous monk robes. His mousy brown hair was thinning on the top, and aside from the robes, he would have looked utterly uninteresting.

“I see you’re awake, Lord Lucifer,” said the man, with a distressingly normal-looking smile given the circumstances. “We do apologize for the discomfort you must be feeling right now, but it will all be worth it in the end.”

“Discomfort.” Lucifer scoffed. His brain seemed to be processing more slowly than it should, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t point out the problems with that statement. “Firstly, I always prefer to at least know a person’s name before they take my shirt off.”

The man blinked and then nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I apologize, my lord. I’m Father Damien, the current head of the Order of the Dragon.”

 _Damien?_ Lucifer rolled his eyes. “What an original name,” he muttered. But true as that was, it wasn’t the important thing to focus on at the moment. “Right. And the Order of the Dragon is…?”

“We are a small band of devoted disciples,” Damien explained, “all working together down through the ages to search for you, Lord Lucifer, at the right time, so that through your power we can bring about Armageddon.”

It was Lucifer’s turn to blink. He really wished he was thinking more clearly … although he had a strong suspicion that this would still be nonsense even if he were. He had come across humans like this before, who wanted him to do something that would fulfill their warped, false view of the Devil. These current cultists probably wanted something similar, though they were going at it with a bit more violence than usual. He cleared his throat. “Armageddon. Right.” Then another thought occurred to him. “Wait. Hang on. ‘Dragon’, as in--?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Damien eagerly. “As in, the great red Dragon that brings about war in heaven, according to the words of Revelation recorded by John the Apostle. But our Order seeks to change the outcome. You will not be cast out of heaven again, my lord!”

Lucifer snorted. “No, I most certainly will not! I’m not about to lead a frontal assault on the Silver City. I learned my lesson the first time. Also, I’m not some huge, multi-headed, multi-horned dragon, or a reptile of any kind – and I never have been. I don’t know what John was smoking when he saw all those visions, though I’ve often wondered if I could try some. Anyway,” he tried to focus again. “Anyway, aside from that, I have _no_ desire whatsoever to bring about the end of the world. I happen to like it here!” Or at least he _had_ been enjoying it, up until quite recently. But the point still stood.

Father Damien didn’t reply, so Lucifer brought up his one additional point. “Also, you said something about working together to search for me. I’ve been at Lux for several years, and I’ve hardly been staying under the radar. You lot could have ‘found’ me any time since I arrived if you really wanted. So forgive me if that makes me doubt your whole operation more than a touch.”

Apparently the sarcasm was lost on Father Damien. He looked genuinely concerned as he clasped his hands together. “Oh, no, no, my lord – please don’t read that as a lack of enthusiasm or skill from our Order!” he said. “Of course we located you soon after you established your club in the city. But we had to wait, to search for signs that it was the right time to contact you.”

“I think a simple letter addressed to Lux would have sufficed, if all you wanted was to contact me,” Lucifer grumbled. He noticed with no surprise that the man had neglected to respond to any of his other objections. Sighing again, he tried and failed to move at all. “All right then. What signs are you talking about?”

“Why, the ways in which you’re already changing, my lord,” said Damien with another disturbing smile. “Your wings, the return of your true face… Plus, it fits with the prophecy. ‘Evil will be released’ – which is to say, _you_ will be released, in your true, final form.”

Lucifer’s annoyance faded, to be replaced by something very like fear. The prophecy. These men knew about the prophecy (and his wings – how in Dad’s name did they know about his wings?), and they interpreted the ‘evil’ it mentioned as him. Which he wanted to deny, but he wasn’t sure he could anymore.

This time, Lucifer’s silence seemed to encourage Damien to keep going. “You see, Lord Lucifer, we only needed to bring you to the right place, and then let nature take its course, so to speak. The chains are to keep you here, safe, while it happens.” He paused to gesture to them, as if Lucifer might be confused as to which chains the man was talking about. “As time passes, your transformation to your true form will speed up and intensify. That’s why we needed to make sure you had enough space around you.”

He swallowed and looked around the warehouse, as much as he could from his position. That was their plan? These bloody idiots thought they could transform him into the actual dragon from Revelation? But before he could scoff at that, Lucifer realized his back and shoulders hurt. His wings felt very much like they wanted to emerge, in spite of the fact that he himself wanted to keep them hidden. That was … troubling. Still, he wasn’t going to give Father Damien any satisfaction here. “I note you don’t seem to care even the slightest bit how I myself might feel about all this,” he pointed out. “Which I have told you already, I might add, and your further explanation of your psychotic plan hasn’t changed my feelings at all.”

At this, Damien looked the tiniest bit uncomfortable. “We are sorry to cause you any grief, Lord Lucifer,” he said slowly, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the prone devil. “It’s our sincere hope that, once you’ve gotten used to the idea, you’ll be fully in support of our plan.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed. “So you’re relying on, what, Stockholm syndrome? Hoping that will make me come around? I can tell you with certainty, that isn’t going to work.”

Father Damien flinched, and stepped backward – but then he smiled again with evident excitement. “You can certainly help the process along if you wish, my lord!”

At first, Lucifer had no idea what the man was going on about now, but then he noticed that his back was aching even more than it had been. As if him letting a hint of his other side show was somehow making this transformation work faster. He took a deep, slow breath, willing himself to calm down. The ache faded slightly.

Damien was clearly disappointed. “Well, it’ll happen either way. I or one of the other Order members will be by later to check on you, my lord.”

Lucifer watched, half-disbelieving, as the cultist started to walk away. He scoffed again, and tugged at the chains holding him down. “You-- you’re seriously going to leave me like this!?” The chains rattled around him. “I have a safe word, you know!”

Father Damien didn’t seem to hear him.

~~  
Detective Chloe Decker was beginning to get worried.

She was trying not to overreact, but it was not easy. Lucifer had hardly been in the best state of mind last night – and then Linda had called her late this morning, an hour and a half after she’d gotten to the precinct.

“Has, um, has Lucifer been in today, or have you heard from him?” she’d asked, not really succeeding if she had been trying not to sound worried.

“No,” Chloe had answered, feeling her worry ratchet up several notches. “No, he-- I thought he’d just decided to take some time, after everything with Eve. Why?”

Linda had sighed over the phone. “I can’t say too much, since I need to respect his privacy as my patient. But given what we – how we ended our session last night, I admit I’m getting concerned. None of my calls or texts seem to be going through.”

Chloe stood up. That was really _not_ good news. Of course, Lucifer had disappeared before … but she was afraid that this time was different. “All right. So, Doctor, in your honest opinion as his therapist, knowing how he was when he left your office, would it be overkill for me to use department resources to track his phone?”

There was a pause. Eventually, Linda said, “I’ll ask Amenadiel and Maze if they can find him first. If not, then as both Lucifer’s friend _and_ his doctor, I would suggest you track him with police resources.”

That had sounded very reasonable. But that conversation had been over an hour ago, and it was getting really hard to focus on this paperwork that she was supposed to be doing. She sighed.

A few seconds later, Chloe nearly jumped out of her chair when her phone rang. It was Amenadiel. He sounded both regretful and concerned as he said he’d found no sign of Lucifer. “And Maze was only able to track my brother a few yards down an alley near Linda’s office,” he went on. “It seems he must have flown from there. There were no indications of a struggle, though, according to Maze.”

Chloe swallowed and shut her eyes. She hadn’t even wanted to consider that particular option. “Thanks, Amenadiel,” she said. “Tell Maze thanks, too. I’ll-- I’ll see what the department can do about tracking his phone, then.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just as easy as deciding to do it. First of all, she had to figure out how to get approval for this. She could have tried to sneak around and have the techs track Lucifer’s phone without permission, but that would run the risk of someone finding out and shutting it down. On the other hand, a missing person investigation might be seen as premature.

But fate or-- or something must have been smiling on her today. The acting lieutenant listened to her carefully curated reasons for being concerned about their civilian consultant, and then nodded. “Get with our techs and track Mr. Morningstar’s phone,” she said. “When they narrow down a location, take a team – a _small_ team – and check it out. While I agree that there’s some concern here, we can’t afford to waste too many resources until or unless we know what’s going on here.”

Chloe kept her visible relief to a minimum as she thanked the lieutenant and hurried to get started on the trace. Evidently, her partnership with Lucifer in the past couple of weeks had had good enough results – despite the crazy moments – that the new acting LT had been impressed.

~~  
The rest of the day passed extraordinarily slowly. Lucifer found it extremely difficult not to get frustrated and impatient. He had never been big on self-control; after all, he was all about expressing and fulfilling one’s desires, not trying to force oneself into someone else’s narrow ideas of morality. But giving into his own frustration and anger right now was dangerous, apparently. He had no desire whatsoever to hurry along this process of transformation that the Order of the Dragon, at least, fervently believed was now inevitable. And every time he started to slip, to allow his devilish nature to show, it was harder and harder to bring himself back under control. His back ached constantly, and the skin on his face felt oddly tight.

There was one thing that helped him stay strong in the face of his impatience and fear: the pleasure it gave him to thwart these lunatics’ hopes. (After all, he had always enjoyed defying religious people’s expectations.) Every hour or so, at least one Order member would come into the warehouse to check on him – or more accurately, check on the progress of his transformation, Lucifer was fairly sure. Every time one of them came in, Lucifer did his absolute best to regard his visitor with a calm, cheerful smile, and as many irritating comments as possible.

So far, he had learned that two of the other members called themselves Judas and Cain, fittingly enough – although Lucifer took great joy in informing “Cain” that he was nothing like so imposing as his real-life counterpart, and telling “Judas” that the real Judas had been a whiny little coward. He had yet to learn the other four members’ names. Two hadn’t come in to check up on him yet, and the other two had refused to speak to him.

But during the times when no one was looking in on him, it got more and more difficult not to give in to despair. He was in captivity, in a place where no one who might truly care about him would know to look for him, and he had no way of escaping. Worse than that, though, was the feeling deep down in his bones that this transformation was, in fact, inevitable. Soon – no matter how hard he fought against it – he would be revealed to the world as the monster he really was. The monster they’d all always thought he was.

It was Father Damien who first reported the progression of Lucifer’s transformation. It would have been a bit hard for Lucifer himself to notice, in his position, but once the Order member excitedly pointed out the red stain on the back of Lucifer’s left hand, the captive devil could see it for himself. From then on, it quickly spread to cover his whole hand – changing it from the elegant, angelic (or human, he supposed) hand of a club owner to the scaly, clawed hand of a monster. Lucifer tried not to panic. Yes, all right, this had never happened to him before like this, but that didn’t mean he was doomed. Or at very least, the idea that he would actually go the whole mile and turn into a dragon? Ridiculous.

Before long, his other hand was clawed and hideous. Then it was like he could feel it as it spread down his arms. It didn’t hurt, exactly – but it was like it reminded him of how it had felt, the first time, when he’d fallen. That was not a memory which he appreciated reliving even the smallest fragment.

Lucifer didn’t have a mirror. Still, the almost-burning sensation continued to make itself known as it spread. It reached his torso, then his neck, and then, inescapably, his face. All the while, the Order members grew more and more excited, while Lucifer himself felt his despair plunging to new depths. He was, at least, spared the agony of seeing the Detective’s reaction to this transformation. He didn’t know how he would deal with her fear and disgust on top of his own.

Right before the transformation was complete, Lucifer found to his further discomfort that his ‘mojo’, as the Detective would call it, seemed to be going haywire as well. The Order members suddenly stopped discussing what they were seeing amongst themselves, and started to crowd toward their captive devil. Almost in unison, their eyes wide, they started to tell him, “I want you to rise, Lord Lucifer. I want you to bring about Armageddon. I want evil to be released”, over and over again. It was only a sharp growl for them to back off, repeated once at much louder volume for emphasis, that finally got them to snap out of it (or at least mostly) and step back.

When his wings emerged, Lucifer tried immediately to put them away. But they wouldn’t go back in. He was now the Devil, from head to toe.

Not a dragon, though. This seemed to be concerning to the cultists, now that they had stopped their creepy chanting. They were currently gathered a short distance away, talking in low tones and glancing at him every few seconds. Lucifer didn’t bother to meet their eyes. He stared at the ground a few inches in front of his face. Whether or not there was a chance he could actually turn into a beast straight out of Revelation, it didn’t change the fact that he was already a monster. This was who he was – who he had been for countless years. Now, it was just … visible to everyone. Impossible to hide or deny.

That bloody prophecy had to have been talking about him. There weren’t any other options. And as much as he wished Father Kinley had been making the whole thing up, that wasn’t very likely, either. It was always the worst prophecies that seemed to be true.

“Evil will be released.” He muttered the words to himself, quietly enough that the Order members didn’t hear. The Detective would have shaken her head, would insist that it couldn’t be talking about him, because he wasn’t evil. The fact that she truly believed that, and had rejected Kinley’s manipulations in the end, spoke well of her. Of course. She was truly good. And even Eve had loved him ever since the beginning, and still loved him, after he had strung her along and then been purposefully cruel. But both of them were only looking at him the way they wanted to see him. Following their own natures, their own desires. Lucifer shut his eyes. As much as he valued them, and as much as Chloe coming back around to be on his side again meant to him, their good opinions couldn’t outweigh the evidence of his own true nature. He ruined everything he touched. He broke things, broke relationships. He was an object of terror and scorn around the world and in the afterlife. Why else would so many people so firmly believe that to be true? Why else would he hate himself so much?

Suddenly, he let out a cry, twisting against the chains as far as he could. His skin was-- it felt like it was burning. Again. The heat was intense, and this time, a large part of it felt internal, as well. Like he was boiling, or exploding, or…

He opened his eyes. The cultists were all staring at him now, their own eyes wide and astonished. And no, they weren’t shrinking. He was growing.

It wasn’t just a small increase in overall size, either. He kept on growing. And growing until, mercifully (if mercy could be said to apply here), he stopped just before his wings and back were smashed against the walls and ceiling of the warehouse. The chains had long since snapped off each of his legs. Lucifer blinked and tried to breathe. At least the pain was fading. Before he could try to begin processing this, though, there was one more sharp spike of pain – in his skull this time. Horns. Of course. Lucifer snorted (actual steam came out of his nostrils at that, he noted distractedly). Finally, at long last, the devil had horns. And a tail, for that matter, but still no hooves. He tried to find a positive there. Then another thought struck him, and he smiled a wide, dragonish smile for a moment. He looked down at the seven cultists.

“Well, congratulations,” he said, hiding his relief that he was still capable of speech. “You got your dragon. Now, what do you plan to do with me next, I wonder?”

Father Damien was still staring up at him in awe, and said nothing. It was one of the nameless fellows who frowned and said, “But … Father Damien, he doesn’t have ten horns, just two. And only one head!”

Resisting the obvious innuendo, Lucifer rolled his eyes. However angelic self-actualization was playing its role here, he was glad his subconscious hadn’t taken it that far. “Oh, I’m _terribly_ sorry not to fit inside your prescriptive little box. But then, prophecy isn’t an exact science, now, is it?”

Damien shot his subordinate a glare. “No, no, of course not, great Dragon,” he said loudly. “As to your question--”

“As to my question, it was really more rhetorical than anything else,” Lucifer interrupted. “I’ve already told you just how uninterested I am in bringing about any sort of Armageddon … and now that I’m in this form, I don’t think you can do a thing about it. This particular evil has no desire to be released. I suppose I could push my way out of this warehouse, but that sounds like so much trouble. In fact, I rather fancy a nice long nap in here. Or maybe I’ll test out my fire-breathing ability first.” He took a deep breath, and then bent down so all the humans would be in the path of any flames that happened to emerge.

With a satisfying collection of very undignified shrieks, all of the men clutched their robes and took off running, just fast enough to avoid the jet of fire Lucifer sent after them.

But it didn’t take too long for Lucifer’s satisfaction to fade. Yes, now he was rid of the irritating presence of his would-be captors. However, he was still effectively trapped. He wasn’t going to push his way out of this warehouse and go on a rampage through LA. Where could he go? He supposed he could fly out into the desert and try to hide there, but he wasn’t that desperate yet. Surely … surely he would figure a way out of this. He wasn’t going to be trapped in this form forever.

Lucifer gave himself a mental shake. Right. So if he wanted to get out of here, his first step had to be transforming back to something closer to human. Which he could do, because he’d gotten himself into this mess in the first place, hadn’t he? Shutting his eyes, Lucifer did his best to concentrate. To self-actualize. Devil or not, he wasn’t supposed to be a sodding _dragon_.

But despite his certainty of that, the only thing he seemed to be able to accomplish was to shrink a bit. Which was to say, the roof of the warehouse was now several feet further away from his folded wings and his back.

Growling in frustration, Lucifer lashed his tail without thinking. The limb crashed into the back wall of the warehouse, and although the impact barely hurt him at all, he was fairly sure he heard and felt an ominous crack in the wall itself. When he tried to turn and look at it, though, he found that his own bulk was in the way of where he wanted to look. He growled again, and then stopped himself. Talk about undignified.

He tried again, taking several deep breaths and keeping his eyes closed. But this time, nothing at all changed. “This is not a promising start,” he muttered. But he wasn’t one to give up easily. He would keep trying. He wasn’t going to let the crazed ideas of a band of lunatic humans determine who he was.

~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue between Chloe and Lucifer in this chapter and the next will be taken or adapted from "Save Lucifer". All credit for those lines goes to the brilliant writers.
> 
> Thanks to Mack_the_Spoon for her beta.

~~  
Chloe had no good ideas as to why Lucifer’s phone would be on the far eastern edge of the city, although part of her was relieved that it wasn’t even farther away. That the department had even been able to track it, in fact. There had always been the chance, after all, that he had gone somewhere that human tracking tools would be no use.

Now she just had to decide who to take with her. Dan still hadn’t forgiven Lucifer for what he saw as Lucifer’s part in Charlotte’s death. Ella would go, of course, but for one thing, the acting lieutenant would probably frown on a forensic scientist being Chloe’s backup. So aside from telling Maze the address of where they were going, Chloe was at a loss. But she couldn’t just sit here at her desk dithering while something terrible could be happening to her partner.

Straightening her spine, Chloe walked over to Dan’s desk and cleared her throat. “Dan--”

“Is this about Lucifer?” he cut in, not looking up from his paperwork.

She sighed. “Yes. It is. Linda is worried about him, I’m worried about him – even Maze is, for as much as she’d ever show it. And we have a location for his phone.” She paused, and then went on, “Now I just need someone I can trust to watch my back.”

He set down the paper, rubbed a hand over his face, and looked up. “Fine,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I’ll come. But it’s not for his sake.”

“As long as you’re there, that doesn’t really matter,” she said, giving him a small smile.

The two were on their way within minutes. Chloe let Dan drive; she was too distracted, mentally replaying the scene in Lucifer’s penthouse last night. And Linda had hinted that they’d had some kind of breakthrough in their therapy session, but not one that left Lucifer feeling better. She and Linda both knew how deeply Lucifer felt things, how deeply his past still hurt him. She twisted her hands together in her lap, once again wishing with all her heart that she could change how she had reacted when she’d first learned the truth about him. Because her fear and betrayal had hurt him deeply, too.

“Whatever this is, whatever’s going on with Lucifer,” said Dan suddenly, breaking the silence, “it’s not your fault, Chloe.”

Now that was almost creepy, how close he’d just come to what she was thinking. She glanced at him. “I know,” she said.

“Good.” He took one hand off the wheel just long enough to touch her shoulder. “Keep that in mind, then.”

They drove to the outskirts of town, to find Maze standing next to a large tree near the location where Lucifer’s phone was supposed to be. Her expression was grim – not that that in itself was unusual. “He was here,” she said without preamble, as soon as the detectives were out of the car. Looks like there was a struggle, but I don’t see or smell any blood.”

The light was just beginning to fade, but Chloe agreed with Maze’s assessment: the way the dirt was all scuffed up here suggested some kind of struggle, with multiple participants. “Any idea how many were involved?”

She shrugged. “More than one or two others.” Then she nodded her head in the direction of the tree. “His jacket and phone are over there.”

Chloe caught Dan’s eye, and they both went over to the tree. There was Lucifer’s suit jacket – and his shirt – folded neatly at the base of the tree. His phone was in the jacket pocket, turned off.

“So … he took off both his jacket and shirt, folded them, and left them here with his phone?” Dan frowned. “Even for Lucifer, that seems weird.”

“Yeah, he’d just strip all the way if he came out here to have sex, not just halfway,” Maze agreed. She looked around. “Also, this isn’t his scene. Too much dirt, and the ground’s too hard.”

Chloe shook her head slightly, but Maze had a point, too. “So he didn’t come out here to have sex, then. And that means – someone else left these here?”

“And whoever they were, they took Lucifer somewhere else,” Maze continued. She crossed her arms. “That means there had to have been at least three of them, if he had time to put up a fight but still lost.”

Chloe thought of Lucifer telling her all those months ago about what he remembered of how he’d ended up in the desert alone, and winced. “Yeah.”

She gathered up her partner’s clothes and put them in the back of Dan’s car. Then the three of them started the search again. There were no obvious signs of other vehicles having been in the area (other than Maze’s bike). Whoever had taken Lucifer had come and gone on foot, then. Which narrowed their search radius.

“Humans probably wouldn’t have walked out into the desert, right?” Maze asked under her breath, when Dan had gone out of earshot. That was surprisingly cautious, for Maze.

“Yeah, I doubt it,” Chloe answered. Then she bit her lip. “I mean, unless...”

“Unless they were trying to kill Lucifer,” Maze finished for her. She gave Chloe a rough pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Decker. Whoever they are, they almost definitely underestimated him. He’s not going to just die.”

When they had all walked from the apparent scene of the abduction back into the edges of the city, they were all startled by the sound of a cell phone text alert. It was from Maze’s phone. She rolled her eyes, but then froze as she stared at the screen. “It’s-- it’s Linda. She’s in labor!”

Chloe and Dan exchanged a look. Dan nodded, and then turned back to Maze. “Go. You should be with her.”

Maze frowned, but agreed. “Amenadiel is there, but I should be, too. I went to a hell of a lot more of those birthing classes than he ever did.” Then she focused her gaze on Chloe, and there was a flicker of how torn she was feeling, just for a second. “I’ll keep my phone on. Call me if things get … too weird, when you find him.”

“Don’t worry about it, Maze,” said Chloe with a smile. “But thanks, and keep us posted if you can about Linda.”

After Maze left, the two detectives really had no obvious clues as to which way to go. It was with some reluctance that they decided to separate to cover more ground, though they agreed that they wouldn’t split up too far.

Chloe saw the old warehouse first. She debated calling Dan right then, but decided not to, not yet. She could call him if she needed to. Keeping one hand ready to unholster her gun, she moved toward the door at the back of the warehouse. But this one was locked. She was about to step back and head around toward the front entrance, when she heard-- she thought she heard something from inside.

Heart pounding a little, Chloe stepped closer to the door again, pushing at the door so that the lock rattled again. “Hello?” she said, not as loudly as she’d wanted. Clearing her throat, she raised her voice to repeat, “Hello? Is someone in there?”

There was a pause, and then … “Detective?”

His voice sounded odd – louder than she would have expected, and there was something strange about the voice quality – but it had to be him. “Lucifer!” She leaned against the door. “Lucifer, are you all right? I-- This door is locked, but I’m coming around to the next one!”

“Ah. Well. I’m not going anywhere, you can be assured,” was his cryptic response.

“I should call Dan,” she muttered. Was he tied up? Was that what he meant?

There was an odd rumbling sound from inside, and then Lucifer said, “Detective, did you just mention calling Daniel? Because if so, might I recommend … not contacting him right away?” Now he sounded nervous.

Chloe put her phone back into her pocket, now imagining all sorts of supernatural things that Dan wouldn’t understand. “All right.”

Hurrying around the corner, Chloe found the doors at the front hanging open. She drew her weapon, though she didn’t raise it. Lucifer hadn’t mentioned anyone in there with him, which he would have if she’d needed to know.

Inside the warehouse, the fading evening light didn’t illuminate much from the few small windows near the roof. One whole side of the place was full of something that Chloe couldn’t make out in the shadows. She didn’t see Lucifer anywhere. “Lucifer?” she called again. “Where are you?”

There was a rustling sound, and then something huge moved on that opposite side of the warehouse. “Right here, Detective. I-- I’ve been trying to think of some way of warning you, but I suppose I just ran out of time.”

Chloe gasped, and very nearly dropped her gun in shock. It was Lucifer’s voice, but it was coming from… From a….

“Oh, come on, Detective,” said the gigantic winged creature, in a tone that was exactly like how Lucifer sounded when he was trying to mask his emotions with false cheer, “surely you read Revelation while you were in Rome. You know how that drug-addled apostle described me.”

She tried, and finally managed to close her gaping mouth. Yes, she _had_ read through the book of Revelation in Rome. She knew the devil had been described as a red dragon – though that prophecy had said he would have seven heads and ten horns, she was pretty sure. This red dragon she was looking at right now only had the one head, though he did have two impressively sharp-looking horns. “But...” She swallowed, and put her gun away. “How…?”

Her partner sighed, and shifted so that he could rest his head on his front legs, facing her. “I wish I knew,” he said gloomily. She had the impression he wasn’t speaking at anywhere near full volume, but it was still enough to make it feel like the ground was almost shaking. “I don’t think it would have gotten this far if it weren’t for those idiotic cultists who dragged me here.”

Chloe took a hesitant step closer. Her brain was still having trouble coming to grips with the size of him in this form. But she wasn’t scared, exactly. Just … shocked. “Cultists?” she managed to say.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Seven of them. Called themselves the Order of the Dragon. They knew about Kinley’s blasted prophecy, and they knew about-- other things, and they decided that ‘evil will be released’ should mean that I become the dragon, and start Armageddon.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped again. “Um. Wow,” she managed to say, even more eloquently. That same passage in Revelation, she recalled, had mentioned a battle between the forces of heaven and hell. Which the dragon lost.

“I know,” he said. Somehow his eyes, though distinctly reptilian, were no less expressive than usual. Even the way he was lying there, his whole posture – everything about him suggested dejection. Although the way the tip of his tail was twitching (he had a _tail_ now!) also suggested other emotions, that he might not want to show so clearly. “Apparently they expected me to launch an attack on the Silver City, once I’d completed my transformation. But I let them know in no uncertain terms that I have no interest in ending the world, or repeating mistakes I’ve already made in regard to that place.”

Her brain was starting to catch up, Chloe thought. But slowly. “All right. Do you know where these cultists are now?”

“Not a clue.” He jerked his head toward the door she’d come in. “Since I sent them running like tiny little terrified rabbits with a burst of flame, I haven’t seen them.”

Chloe blinked. “You can breathe fire.”

“One of the only benefits of this situation, yes,” he said, and in the low light she thought she caught a glimpse of a rather toothy grin. “I don’t quite think they were expecting that, somehow.”

She laughed once. “I bet they weren’t.”

They lapsed into silence for a few moments. Chloe let her gaze rove over the huge dragon that was Lucifer. In better light, she thought, he would be even more impressive – not that he wasn’t plenty impressive already. He took up one whole side of a very large warehouse floor, after all.

“Detective,” said Lucifer then, and somehow he sounded small though he was the complete opposite, “I don’t know how I’m going to get out of here.”

Chloe sucked in a breath. The thought had just started to occur to her. “Lucifer...”

“I mean, I know I could break out of here in an instant, if I wanted to,” he went on. He got up into a crouch, and Chloe saw how close his back and wings were to the ceiling. “But what would that accomplish? Then I’d be a huge, monstrous creature that everyone in LA could see and be terrified by. All the humans would panic. The army would be called in, like for bloody Godzilla.”

Wincing, Chloe shook her head. “Well, we definitely want to avoid that,” she said. “But I don’t think that’s your only option – that, or staying in here, like this.”

The dragon cocked his head at her, settling back down onto the ground. “I’m listening, if there are any other options you can see.”

“Well,” she began, and then took a breath, pushing her hair out of her face. This was … not something she felt even half as confident to explain as she wished she could be. She was no expert on any of this. It was too bad Amenadiel, Maze, and Linda (she spared a moment to hope that everything was going well with the baby) were all busy right now. She could have used an assist here. “You said this wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for those Order cultists. But they didn’t do anything, use any, uh, magic or rituals or whatever to you, did they?”

Lucifer snorted, and Chloe felt a puff of very warm air. “No, they did not. And if they had, it would have been entirely ineffective. Unless they’re actually stolen from some celestial source, human rituals are useless against celestials.” He gave her a look, and she flushed, knowing they were both thinking of the ritual Father Kinley had wanted to perform to send him back to hell.

“Copy that,” she mumbled. Pushing past that unpleasant reminder, she went on, “Okay. So, what was it, really, that caused you to change?”

He blinked, and his wings rustled. “I-- I’m not sure.”

“But you have some idea?”

At that, he scoffed, and drew away from her as far as he could, staring at the ground. “It’s the bloody prophecy, isn’t it? ‘Evil will be released’ - that’s me. No way to hide it now.”

She wanted to reach out and take his hand – and she would have, probably, except he didn’t exactly have hands at the moment. Instead, she just took a careful step closer. “Do you really believe that? I thought you hated it when people call you evil, or say you’re the reason for every bad thing.”

He didn’t reply. That was answer enough, and Chloe felt her heart break a little. “I’ve already told you how _I_ feel about that issue,” she said, quiet but firm. “I know you’re a good man. But this isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it? When I’ve been the cause of so much pain and destruction in your life, especially?” The words were bitter, but the bitterness wasn’t directed at her.

“No, Lucifer,” she insisted, taking another step toward him. “I’m okay. I’m not destroyed. But I think somehow – and it’s not surprising, after … however many thousands of years of hearing people blame you for everything--” Her mind boggled, and her heart broke further, imagining what that would do to anyone, much less this man. “...I think part of you believes it.”

He still wouldn’t look at her, though he seemed to be listening. For several seconds, there was silence, other than the sound of a huge, agitated dragon inhaling and exhaling. Then he lashed his tail, and cringed as it hit the back wall with a crash.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, reaching out as if she could touch his tail from here. “That sounded--”

“No, I’m fine, Detective,” he cut in, even as he twisted around to try to look at the back wall. “It didn’t hurt me at all. I’m not sure there’s much that could right now, even with you here.” He crouched down again, and his tail twitched – less dramatically this time. “I’m more worried about the structural integrity of the wall.”

“Ah.” That was, she had to admit, not probably something to take lightly. He couldn’t turn around to look properly, either. Not with the space constraints of the warehouse, not without risking knocking over a few of the support pillars.

She was about to suggest that she could go take a look at the wall herself, when the ringing of her phone made them both flinch. It was Dan.

With a twinge of guilt for not even having thought about calling him, Chloe answered. “Hey, Dan. I--”

“Chloe, I just ran into some really sketchy guys – dressed in old-fashioned robes, like freaking medieval monks – who were talking about ‘the Lord of Hell’ and the ‘Great Dragon’ when I found them. I have five in custody, with backup on the way to get them all booked, but even though they admitted to having knocked Lucifer out and tying him up, they won’t say where he is, or whether or not I got all of their little devil-worshipping cult group.”

“ _Worshipping?_ ” grumbled Lucifer. “Hardly.”

“Wait – is Lucifer there?” said Dan, now sounding bewildered. “Is he, uh, is he okay?”

Chloe looked up at her partner, who had decided not to reply to that, for whatever reason. “Yes, I found him. I was just about to tell you. He’s-- okay, but he’s, um, still trapped. I’m going to try to help him get out. But you were right to worry about the cultists. Lucifer said there were seven of them.”

“Which ones does he have with him there?” Lucifer asked. He was standing (as much as possible, with the roof of the warehouse just inches from his back), and stretching his neck toward Chloe now.

She started to repeat the question, but Dan interrupted. “I heard him. Uh, they’re obviously using fake names, but we have Cain, Judas, and – oh my God. Seriously? ...Orpheus, Anubis, and Osiris.”

Without even looking at him, Chloe could tell Lucifer was rolling his eyes. “Well. At least they branched out and found some names from other myths. I supposed I’ll give them the tiniest bit of credit for that. But more important, that list means their leader, the most devout of these morons, is unaccounted for. Calls himself Father Damien.”

“Their leader.” Chloe shut her eyes for a moment. That was not a good sign. But she also couldn’t ask for backup to come here right now, either. Not while Lucifer was … like this.

“Chloe, where are you?” Dan asked right then. “I get that you can’t leave if Lucifer is in danger, but I can direct some of the unis to your location at least, if some of these weirdos are still out there.”

She was trying to come up with a way of framing her refusal that would make any sense at all to Dan, when the main doors to the warehouse rattled. Chloe had shut them firmly behind her, but that wouldn’t delay whoever it was for long. “Gotta go,” she whispered to Dan, ending the call over his protest. Then she put the phone away and got out her gun.

“Detective, please hide,” Lucifer whispered, more quietly than it seemed like he should be able to at this size. “These imbeciles aren’t expecting anyone else to be in here, and--”

Chloe held up one hand, already moving quickly so that she was at least mostly hidden behind the dragon’s neck and front legs. She wasn’t going to sit this out and let Lucifer handle it (not that he expected that, she knew), but she also needed a better grasp on the situation before she acted. Though if the situation had permitted it, she would have been very distracted by this up-close look at her partner in dragon form. His scales gleamed, even in this dim light.

When the door swung open all the way, Chloe had to bite her tongue to keep from reacting to what was revealed. A man in a ridiculous robe came in. She could only really see what he looked like because he was holding a large candle in one hand, and a… She blinked and squinted. _No, it couldn’t be_. But it was. He was holding the end of a rope, at the other end of which was a goat. A live goat.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Lucifer, and once again, though she couldn’t see his face from here, she could all but hear him roll his eyes. He drew himself upright as much as he could, requiring her to shuffle backward a few steps. “You didn’t!”

The goat, which had obviously just gotten Lucifer’s scent and was now refusing to move forward, bleated. The sound reverberated weirdly in the stillness of the warehouse.

“Good evening, Lord Lucifer,” said the man, smiling even as the goat pulled against his grip, causing him to pour some hot wax on the floor. “I thought perhaps you might be hungry.”

Listening to an enormous dragon sputter in outraged offense was, Chloe admitted to herself, both extremely bizarre and kind of hilarious. When he finally managed a complete sentence, it was to tell the cultist, “Even if I were hungry, I would not eat that-- that pathetic little rubbish-eating creature that smells like a barnyard. In the _best_ of circumstances, those animals can never be made to taste truly appealing, and these are _not_ the best circumstances!”

The goat bleated again, pulling at the rope. The cultist just smiled again. “Very well, my lord. If you’re sure.”

“I could not be more sure, you utter moron!” was Lucifer’s furious response. “Also, I don’t recall asking for your company at all.”

“I’m not intending to intrude for long, my lord,” was the man’s response. “I merely want to deliver a message, which I hope might persuade you to change your mind about helping our Order achieve its goal.”

“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward. “Do tell – although I seriously doubt you’ll change my mind.”

The cultist – Chloe guessed this must be the leader – nodded. He let go of the rope, and the goat seized the opportunity to dash out the open door. “I told you before that our Order has been watching you for a long time, great Dragon,” he said. “So, when you, uh, communicated your lack of willingness to fulfill the Apostle’s prophecy, I sent my brother, Veil, to check on the collection of civilians you’ve gathered around yourself. We weren’t able to locate the woman you favor most – that police detective – since she seems to be out investigating some crime.” He waved a dismissive hand. “But your forensic scientist associate wasn’t so difficult to find.” Somehow, the man’s bland smile now looked menacing in the light of the single candle. “And if you show yourself to be more … cooperative, then she’ll stay in good health – until the world ends, of course.”

Lucifer grew very, very still, just inches away from Chloe. And although he was now focused on the cultist, she could feel that that stillness was him poised to strike. The air crackled with tension as he snarled, “What have you done with Miss Lopez?”

~~


	3. Chapter 3

~~  
If the Detective hadn’t been there, Lucifer would have already lunged forward and caught this disgusting little worm in his claws – or teeth, perhaps. As it was, only her hand on his foreleg kept him still.

Father Damien held up the hand that wasn’t holding a candle in a would-be placating gesture. “Your scientist is perfectly fine, Lord Lucifer. She doesn’t even ever need to know about all this. My brother is only keeping her in his sights for now.”

Lucifer felt the Detective’s hand quiver at the phrase “in his sights”. It had caught his attention, as well. The thought of Miss Lopez going about her business without knowing that a sniper was watching her every move infuriated him. But he had to play this carefully. There was no way he was going to risk his friend’s life by doing something rash. “I see,” he said. “And … were I to continue to be less than cooperative, how would you communicate to this Veil that he needed to act?”

“We both have phones,” said Damien. “I check with him every hour. If he doesn’t hear from me, that will be a problem for the Lopez woman.”

“And your next check-in deadline is…?”

“In about twenty minutes,” the man replied, after looking at his watch. Then he gave Lucifer a mild look. “So, my lord, have you changed your mind at all?”

Lucifer dug his claws into the concrete and lashed his tail once (carefully, so as to avoid striking the wall), knowing this fool would read all this correctly as a sign of agitation. “I’m not going to burn you to ash where you stand,” he said. Though it would have been easy – so easy – to do it. “That’s about as far as I’ve gotten for the moment.”

Damien frowned, but then nodded. “That’s a start,” he said. “I’m going to go grab something quick to eat for myself, since you’re not hungry at the moment, great Dragon. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll ask you to show me some more progress then.”

As soon as the door was closed behind the cult leader, Lucifer spread his wings as far as he could in this cramped space and blew out a jet of fire. If Damien – only human, awful though he was – had still been standing in his previous location, there would have been nothing left of him but ashes. He bared his teeth, fully aware of how little that bothered him right now. It was no wonder he had grown even more grotesque than he’d ever looked in Hell.

“Wow,” said the Detective’s voice, from just a few feet away from him. “That’s, uh, really impressive to see in person.”

Lucifer folded his wings, scoffing. “I suppose.” His claws had left huge gouges in the warehouse floor, he noted.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I texted Dan to have squad cars sent to Ella’s home, or if she’s not there, to wherever she might be. If this guy is a danger to Ella, we’re going to find him.”

As much as he was genuinely relieved to hear that help was already on the way, Lucifer still had some worries. “Can we be sure they’ll get to Miss Lopez and protect her from this Veil person before my twenty minutes are up?” he asked.

There was all but no light in the warehouse now, other than the illumination coming from the Detective’s phone. Her expression was serious. “Well, I can’t tell you with one hundred percent certainty that they will,” she admitted. “But Ella is one of us, Lucifer. The LAPD is going to do everything we can – and twenty minutes is far from impossible.”

Lucifer nodded once. He appreciated her honesty, of course. But “not impossible” still meant there was a chance – a chance Miss Lopez would suffer because of him. Maybe he should have killed Father Damien and broken out of here to find Miss Lopez, while he’d still had the time to get to her before the sniper did.

“Lucifer! _Lucifer_!”

She had been calling his name for several seconds now, in what he realized were increasingly urgent tones. “What? What is it, Detective?”

“What’s going on?” she asked, gesturing at him, and now the light from her phone revealed confusion and alarm on her face.

He was just going to say he hadn’t a clue what she was referring to, when he suddenly felt the ceiling of the warehouse pressing into his shoulders and back. The pressure was increasing, too. He was growing again. “Oh, bloody hell,” he muttered. As if they needed this nonsense on top of everything else. If he couldn’t stop this, then things were about to become even more of a disaster. His fault again. “Detective, you should get out of here. I don’t--” He grunted, as the pressure exerted against his back started to become painful. “I don’t know if I can stop.”

Her eyes widened. Then she swallowed, and her expression changed to that particular one that meant she’d made up her mind, and he wasn’t going to be able to convince her to do anything else. “Well,” she said, “I’ll leave if I have to. But-- but maybe we can work together to try to figure out why this is happening first, and how to stop it.”

“There’s – a rather _pressing_ time limit on that – idea,” he pointed out, and then tried to crouch down to get further away from the ceiling. His attempt only gained him an inch or two of breathing room.

“I see that.” The Detective pushed some hair out of her face. “This has to be an extension of whatever made you turn into a dragon in the first place, right?”

“Right.” Lucifer was trying not to imagine what would happen to her if he made the roof – or really, the entire building – collapse right now. But he wasn’t going to let that happen. He had to focus on stopping this, not on his worries about the Detective, or about the faint cracking sounds he thought he’d heard from the walls and ceiling. “You don’t seem to think it’s all just because of the prophecy, if I recall correctly.”

“That was my thought, yes,” said the Detective. “But I think it’s more important what you think, what you believe about yourself.”

He let out a bitter laugh. If that was the answer, then they were both doomed. “I suppose I haven’t had the chance to tell you what I learned at my session with Linda last night. My breakthrough.”

“No, I didn’t hear,” she said softly. “But Linda was worried about you when she called me this morning.”

“I don’t know why, when she was the one who said it was a good thing that I realized I’d been in denial all this time about how much I hate myself,” he said.

She stared at him, and for some reason she looked for a moment like she might cry. “Oh.”

“I was starting to think that realization could be good,” he went on quickly, “if it meant I’m overcoming my issues.” He sighed. “But that doesn’t look very likely now, does it?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I’m not a therapist, but if Linda were here, I think she’d say that maybe … maybe all of this--” She waved her hand at him, at his wings, at his tail. “Is some kind of expression of that self-hatred you’ve been trying to deny.”

Lucifer blinked. “Detective, I think we’ve discovered an alternate career choice for you, if you ever get bored of police work.”

Smiling for a second, she shook her head. “No, thanks – although judging by Linda’s house, I’m sure it pays better.” Then she smiled again. “Hey, it looks like you stopped growing, at least! That’s something.”

She was right; he was still squeezed up against the ceiling, but the pressure wasn’t increasing. “That is something,” he agreed. “But it could just as easily start up again, and even if it doesn’t I’d really like to get the hell out of here, without literally bringing the house down around us both.”

The Detective concurred. She pondered for a moment. “So, what’s the logical next step, now that we know why you changed like this?”

He shut his eyes. The cowardly part of him wondered if it was too late to change his mind, and just decide to stay in this warehouse by himself forever. But that was ridiculous. Miss Lopez was in danger – and so was his partner, if she stayed here with him. So he made himself answer, without holding back. “I suppose Linda would say that I need to face the truth behind why I hate myself.”

The Detective came closer. In the darkness of the warehouse, her phone’s glow made her look almost ethereal. “Lucifer, the things people blame you for – I know you know in your head that they’re not your fault. But can you believe that, really believe it?”

He thought of the fervor in Father Damien’s eyes, how completely he and the other Order members believed that he was meant to launch an attack against Heaven’s armies and destroy the world. But they were just men – foolish men who didn’t know him at all. Not his real self. “I don’t know,” he answered. That was as far as he could go.

She looked close to tears again. “You don’t need to take all of humanity’s guilt onto yourself,” she insisted. “You have to stop taking responsibility for things you can’t control.”

She was right – he knew she was. And yet… “But if it weren’t for me, no one would be threatening Miss Lopez’s life!” he shouted. The weight of it, all of it, was still close to crushing him. “And that fact made me angry enough to kill Father Damien. I could’ve done it, too. So easily.”

His partner looked up at him. “Nobody other than these crazy cultists are to blame for Ella being in danger,” she said firmly. “And as for wanting to kill that guy, do you think you’re the only one who’s ever wanted to kill a criminal in the heat of the moment?” She took a breath. “You know I’ve wanted to. I don’t know any cop who hasn’t. What matters is how we deal with those desires.”

Lucifer remembered the moment well: when the man who had murdered John Decker had been tied up in Chloe’s apartment, at her mercy. He had watched the struggle on her face, seen how close she came to shooting that sniveling excuse for a man in the head. But in the end, she had chosen to leave him to her human justice system. Even with how that had worked out, she hadn’t regretted it.

“But don’t you see, Detective? That’s just it,” he told her. “I don’t respond the way you did. I don’t have that kind of self-control. When I’m face-to-face with a murderer or a human trafficker...” He trailed off, as he recalled how scared and upset she’d been over that whole business with Tiernan and his son. Understandably so.

“Maybe you haven’t seen a reason in the past to try to change how you react,” was her response, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t in the future. I still believe it’s never too late to do the right thing. Even the fact that you’re questioning this, wondering if reacting differently would be a better idea, proves that to me.” She took a breath. “And maybe … maybe part of moving forward is forgiving yourself for all the things you feel guilty about.”

Lucifer sighed and stared at the ground. “I can’t.”

Her voice shook as she said, “Why?”

“I don’t know how to,” he confessed. The idea seemed beyond impossible. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Silence fell for a moment. Lucifer could hear her unsteady breaths, and could hear that she hadn't moved away from him. She was so concerned for him. He wondered what it would be like to see himself as she somehow saw him: someone who could be saved. Who was worth saving. He took a deep, unsteady breath of his own. “But … I want to,” he said, and then turned to look at her.

And saw her jaw drop open. “Lucifer,” she breathed, putting her hands to her mouth. At some point, she had set her illuminated phone on the ground, and the way the light hit her almost distracted him from an important realization: he was shrinking.

The process continued until he was human-sized, although his skin was still red, raw, and scarred at first. But Chloe didn’t look away, even though he knew she had never seen him in full Devil form. Her eyes were wide, to be sure, but she didn’t look away. He raised a hand in front of his face, just in time to see the hideous claws turn back into a hand.

“Lucifer,” she repeated, with a huge smile, “I think you just took the first step!”

He let out a laugh, and if it was a tinge hysterical, well, the Detective wasn’t going to blame him. “We did it!” He could put his wings away now, so he did, and looked down at himself. He no longer looked like the monster he so hated. “I guess evil isn’t going to be released, after all!”

The Detective was still smiling, although now she was carefully looking only at his face. Right. Because somewhere in the process of becoming a warehouse-sized dragon, he’d lost all his remaining articles of clothing. “Ah, yes. Unavoidable consequence of transforming into a gigantic mythical beast and back, I’m afraid,” he said, grinning. “Shame. That was a perfectly decent suit.”

She rolled her eyes, but then bent down to pick up her phone as it chimed. Then she let out a sigh and shut her eyes for a moment. “It’s Dan,” she reported. “He says Veil is in custody, and Ella is fine. She had no idea anyone was targeting her until the unis told her.” Then she gave him a fond look. “Dan says as soon as she heard what’s going on, she insisted on hitching a ride out here with one of the unis, to make sure you’re okay.”

Miss Lopez was fine. That was a weight off. In fact, to his mild surprise, Lucifer found himself needing to lean over and rest his arms on his thighs, as a rush of dizziness hit him.

“Whoa, whoa, are you okay?” She touched his shoulder.

“I think so,” he said, not straightening up until the dizziness passed. “Lingering side-effects of the transformation, perhaps. That was my first time as a dragon, though, so I can’t be sure.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I, uh, I guess that would have to be a pretty big deal, even for the Devil.”

Before they could continue their conversation, two things happened. First, there was an ominous rumbling, cracking sound from the ceiling above them. Both of them looked up in dismay. Some dust along with a few tiny pieces of the building rained down over them. Second, there was a knock on the main warehouse door, which then began to open.

“Ah, has it been twenty minutes already?” Lucifer rubbed his hands together, but then glanced at the ceiling again. This could be fun – as long as the roof didn’t collapse in on them in the meantime.

“Let me just arrest him, okay?” the Detective said in an undertone, as she unholstered her gun. She, too, kept glancing up at the ceiling. “But maybe we should … at least move further away from this side.”

“Agreed.”

When Father Damien opened the door (still carrying that absurd black candle), he blinked and stopped at the sight of Lucifer, now decidedly not a dragon and also totally naked, standing next to the Detective. She was aiming her gun directly at the cultist’s head. He gaped. “What--?”

“Damien, or whatever your actual name is, you’re under arrest for assault, kidnapping, and imprisonment,” said the Detective. “Also for coercion and conspiracy to commit murder, among other things.”

“Tell me, Father Damien,” said Lucifer, allowing his eyes to flash again, “have you ever considered what the fate of your soul would be, should your idiotic plan fail? Do you fancy yourself ready for Hell, after all your research?”

The man gulped. Lucifer was quite sure he had not, in fact, considered those possible consequences. “But-- your associate,” he said faintly. “If I don’t call--”

“Miss Lopez is safe, and your associate is in custody, I’m informed,” said Lucifer. “So I suggest you get rid of that preposterous candle and put your hands up.”

Swallowing again, Damien set the candle down carefully, and then stood up with his hands raised. “My lord,” he said, as the Detective walked forward to cuff him, “I-- I see now that we may have overstepped, in some of our plans. Please...”

“Overstepped?” He crossed his arms. “Overstepping is you lot continuing to call me ‘lord’, when I never wanted or accepted your veneration. That would be irritating, but something I might overlook. No, you’ve gone much further than that. You’ve directly threatened me, threatened my friends.”

Damien had no reply to that. The Detective had just finished reading him his rights, as the three of them moved toward the door, when two more things happened.

First, they heard the sounds of sirens approaching at high speed, which almost drowned out the Detective’s phone ringing. But the second thing quickly made them forget this first thing – because the second thing was the roof of the warehouse beginning to crumble and shatter into pieces.

“Go!” Lucifer shouted, pushing Chloe toward the exit. The Detective grabbed Damien and ran, with Lucifer right behind them. Then there was a horrendous amount of noise, and a shockwave, and Lucifer was suddenly aware that he wasn’t going to make it all the way out of the warehouse in time. But at least he could make sure his partner did. He stretched out both hands, giving the Detective one more push before everything completely collapsed.

~

When the dust began to clear, Lucifer blinked, coughed, and was glad to find that no part of his body seemed to be in extreme pain. But he was lying prostrate on the ground again. And it seemed difficult to move, when he tried. There was something on top of him. He coughed once more. It was hard to take enough of a breath to keep coughing, and yet...

“Lucifer!”

He tried to speak, to answer the Detective’s anxious call. But he just ended up choking on dust, which was very annoying. Also, whatever was on top of him was blocking out what little light there was.

“There!” A light got closer. Lucifer squinted. He moved his hand. That voice had been familiar, too.

“Yeah, I saw.” That was the Detective again, sounding shaky. “Lucifer, we’re going to get this off you as soon as we can, all right?”

An unfamiliar voice spoke then. “We’re going to need to be careful moving any pieces of rubble, Detectives. Of course we want to get your consultant out as soon as possible, but we also don’t want to trigger a further collapse of the remaining structure.”

Right. The warehouse had fallen down – he’d made it fall down, albeit accidentally. He supposed it was only fair that he would end up getting caught under part of it. That was most likely why he couldn’t take a full breath. Though again, nothing seemed punctured or broken, which was good. Some constant, low-level pain, he could deal with. Plus, it was clear that the Detective had gotten out, and was at least mostly unharmed. That was good.

He drifted for a while, only half-conscious. People continued to move and speak and do things around him. Sometimes, someone touched his hand, and if he heard them ask him to move it, or to squeeze their hand, he would do so. Speaking still seemed to be too much effort, though.

Finally, there was a grating, scraping sound, and some of the weight on him was removed. He took a deeper breath, wincing a little at some bruises he could now feel more clearly, and tried moving again. There was still something lying across his back, but it was much lighter. He braced his hands against the ground.

“Lucifer?” The light got closer to him again. “Lucifer, wait--”

One good shove, and the whatever-it-was was no longer on top of him. It clattered onto the ground next to him. But the effort and the resulting pain was enough to make him collapse most of the way back to the ground again, groaning. “Bloody hell,” he mumbled. “That _hurts_.”

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, now that there was nothing impeding his vision. There were several squad cars around, their lights flashing, behind Detectives Decker and Espinoza. There were also a number of other people, some of whom Lucifer recognized and some he didn’t. Both Daniel and Chloe were crouched down right in front of him, and both looked concerned. Though Daniel also looked alarmed and embarrassed – presumably because Lucifer was, of course, still naked.

“Lucifer, are you all right?” was his partner’s question. “You had huge chunks of concrete on top of the whole main door, all piled on top of you.”

“That would explain the shooting pain all through my ribs and spine,” he grimaced. “But I’m fairly certain nothing is broken or bleeding internally, Detective. Just bruises.”

“You’re incredibly lucky, if so, Mr. Morningstar,” said a woman in a uniform he didn’t recognize. “In all my years responding to building collapses, almost no one who was actually in a building when it collapsed gets away without needing surgery. It’s a good thing that door happened to protect you from any rebar.”

“What a cheerful thought,” said Lucifer. “But thank you – I think. I was certainly due for some good luck.” He glanced up at the sky. It wasn’t luck, he knew – but he didn’t feel like giving his father any credit for his narrow escape from being crushed to death, _after_ being kidnapped and chained up by lunatic humans.

As EMTs came forward to help Lucifer into a sitting position, Daniel finally couldn’t hold back any longer. “What the hell happened to your clothes, man? I mean, the rest of them,” he said. “We already found your shirt, with your phone.”

Lucifer met Chloe’s eyes for a moment, as a very professional EMT checked his pulse and listened to his lungs, all without letting his own eyes wander anywhere that might not be considered decent. Which was a tiny bit disappointing, to be honest. “The rest of my clothes were destroyed,” he answered honestly. No need to explain that _he_ had destroyed them, by turning into a dragon.

"Uh huh." Dan still looked confused - as was often the case. But he shook his head and said, "Well, you did good, anyway. Chloe told me you made sure she got out of there ahead of you."

"Thank you," added Chloe then, wiping a hand under her eyes.

"What are partners for?" said Lucifer. "I'm glad I had enough time to reach you."

If he had been less exhausted, he might have made some amusing comment about the emergency shock blanket the other EMT gave him then – maybe something about how he could just make it easier for any medical professional to examine him by not bothering to cover himself at all. Instead he merely took the blanket and wrapped it around himself silently, wincing as the motion pulled at a few strained muscles. He could practically feel his partner’s concern.

Then, as he let the EMTs help him to stand and start to escort him over to a waiting ambulance, a thought occurred to Lucifer. “Detective, what happened with Father Damien? I assume he didn’t manage to wriggle away like the worm he is during all this chaos?”

“Nope.” The Detective gave him a hard smile. “He tried, but he tripped on his stupid robe and fell flat on his face. Right now he should be well on his way to the station, where he’ll be reunited with the rest of his so-called Order.”

Lucifer chuckled. “How very fitting. That robe was a crime in and of itself, after all.” He wondered how he might find a way to visit the Order of the Dragon while they were awaiting sentencing. Maybe he could invite Maze to come along, and see what they made of her true face as another hint of things to come for them.

Just then, the Detective exclaimed quietly. She had been following his progress from a short distance away, and now she looked up from her phone. “Maze just sent a text. Linda had the baby! Their little guy is doing well, and so is his mother. She sent a picture...” At this point, the Detective let out a sharp gasp and shook her head. “ _How_ did she get a picture of the umbilical cord?!”

Lucifer chuckled again. So, his nephew had been born, and Maze had been there to watch over the proceedings. He hoped for Linda and Amenadiel’s sake that the demon had consented to wait outside the room during the actual birthing process. He couldn’t imagine her commentary would have been to the new parents’ liking. He’d have to go visit them at some point, once he wasn’t so drained that he could barely keep putting one foot in front of the other. A shower would be his top priority after getting out of here, though.

To his relief, no one seemed to find it necessary to insist that he make a trip to the hospital – a trip that he knew he didn’t need. He consented to an IV while sitting and resting on a stretcher in the back of the ambulance, however.

The Detective was nearby, discussing something related to the case with a few officers. Lucifer blinked slowly as his gaze fell away from her. He knew he was close to drifting off. But things were okay now. Better than okay, in fact. His partner had found him, and then the two of them had worked together to stop evil from being released. Plus, he’d begun to forgive himself for all the things that had been weighing on his soul for so long.

His eyes snapped open again a short time later at the sound of another police vehicle arriving on the scene. It had hardly come to a stop when the passenger door opened and Miss Lopez jumped out. She scanned the area, eyes widening at the heap of rubble than had been a warehouse, and then she saw the ambulance. “Lucifer!”

Lucifer smiled as his friend ran over to him. “Good evening, Miss Lopez,” he said. “Seems you’ve suffered no ill effects from the day’s excitement.”

“Me?” She shrugged, eyes still wide. “I’m fine! Didn’t even know there was any 'excitement', or anything to worry about at all until Officer Watkins and a bunch of other cops showed up at my apartment and told me you’d been kidnapped by a group of crazy cultists, and that those cultists were trying to use me as leverage to get you to do what they wanted, but that Chloe got Dan to send these guys to stop the sniper-- I can’t believe those jerks had a _sniper_ on _me_! That’s so totally nuts. I haven’t really started to process that yet. But the main issue here is you! Are you okay? You look--”

“Take a breath, Miss Lopez,” interjected Lucifer, smiling again. “I’m all right. Had a building fall on me, and managed to lose my clothes, but I should recover very quickly.”

“You were inside _that_ when it collapsed?!” Her voice got louder and higher-pitched, and then she winced and quieted down a bit. “Sorry. But … dude, that’s insane! How did that even happen? Why would those cultists try to crush you under a building?”

He thought for a moment about how to phrase his response. “It wasn’t intentional,” was what he settled on. “I really don’t think they knew the building was going to fall down.”

“Oh.” Miss Lopez blinked. “Huh. So … just a really crappy old building that ended up falling down while you were in it? After you were kidnapped? That’s tough luck, man.”

Lucifer snorted. The structural engineer, or whoever that woman had been, had been so sure he’d had surprisingly good luck. It all depended on one’s point of view, he supposed. But his amusement faded then, and he made sure his friend was meeting his eyes as he said, “I’m sorry these people mixed you up into my problems, Miss Lopez. That never should have happened to you.”

She stared at him and then said, “Lucifer, buddy, do you really think I’d blame you for what those crazy people were trying to do?”

He paused, and then looked down at the blanket wrapped around him from the waist down. It was undeniably true that Miss Lopez wasn’t one to hold a grudge. “I suppose not,” he admitted. “But I want to apologize, anyway.”

“Forgiven,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder for a second. He had a shrewd idea she would have hugged him, if he weren’t lying back against the stretcher that was helping him sit up. “So don’t put that on yourself anymore, all right? That kind of guilt’s not good for you, you know.”

“So I’m beginning to learn, yes,” he said with a nod.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, just to wrap things up.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and thanks to all who have left comments and kudos!  
> Also, continued thanks to Mack_the_Spoon for her input.


	4. Epilogue, Parts I & II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, I ended up needing two more chapters instead of one.  
> I used a little bit of dialogue from the beginning of 4x10 in this section - all credit to the show writers for those excellent lines. Also, spoilers for the season four finale, in case you haven't finished it yet.
> 
>  
> 
> **TW: Very brief, minor non-consensual touch, in the second epilogue section here. If you'd like to skip it, it starts at "It was Viktor" and ends at "'Viktor!' came Mikhail's voice."

~~  
Epilogue, Part 1  
The Following Morning

Probably, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but Chloe still found herself stopping in mid-step on the way out to her car. There, leaning against it, was Lucifer, immaculately dressed and grinning at her. He waved a greeting. “Good morning, Detective! Sleep well?”

“Lucifer,” said Chloe, coming down the path toward him, “what are you doing here?”

“Accompanying you to the station, of course,” was his entirely too cheerful reply. She saw now that he was holding out a Starbucks cup in his other hand. “I want to be ready first thing, if we get a new case!”

She accepted the cup, but didn’t unlock her car. “Lucifer, I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic about coming to work, but don’t you want to, I don’t know, rest a little? After everything that happened yesterday?”

“Nonsense, Detective,” said Lucifer. “All I needed was a shower, a few stiff drinks, and one good night’s rest. I’m fine now. Better than fine, actually. The world will not be destroyed, because I forgave myself, so I'd say that's a pretty darn good day for me – and all mankind for that matter, so you're welcome.”

Chloe smiled in spite of herself. But she couldn’t help asking, “So, um, it's all totally gone? Even all the red skin and the devil wings... No more flare-ups?”

Scoffing, he said, “It’s not hemorrhoids, Detective.”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” She took a breath. “It’s just-- I mean, yesterday you were a _dragon_. I don’t really know how all this works just yet, but if it were me, I’d want to take some time, rest up until I was sure I felt like myself again.”

His expression softened. “Well, that’s very thoughtful, but I really do feel fine.”

Chloe thought for a moment. “Here, I tell you what: how about you go visit Amenadiel and Linda and their new baby? I bet they’d love to see you. And I promise I’ll call you if I get a case that I’d like your help with. Okay?”

Her partner sighed a little, but nodded. “It’s true that I haven’t been to see them yet, not since my nephew’s arrival,” he said. “Very well. I’ll make an appearance at least, and give Linda the gift I have picked out for her, to commemorate the end of my need for therapy. I should also probably check to make sure Maze is giving them room to breathe. She doesn’t always understand the human need for personal space.”

Chloe debated trying to protest any of the many things he’d just said for which she had counterpoints, but decided against it. At least for now. As Lucifer was walking away toward where his car was parked, though, a thought occurred to her. “Hey, Lucifer?”

“Yes?” He turned.

“Do you think...” She trailed off. No. She didn’t need to ask that. “Never mind. It was stupid.”

“No, what were you going to ask me, Detective?” He took a step back toward her. “I very much doubt it was stupid.”

She cleared her throat. She wasn’t so sure he’d still think that once she asked, but she would ask. “All right. It’s just, I was wondering if you thought you could transform into the dragon again, but voluntarily. You know, since you can normally completely control your devil face.”

He blinked, and took a few seconds to ponder the question. “I really don’t know, but I suppose there would be no reason why not,” he said then. “That ability could come in handy, perhaps. Provided I was in a space large enough not to cause any further building collapses, that is.” Then he cocked his head. “Why do you ask?”

And now she was going to blush, she could tell. But he wasn’t going to let this go if she refused to answer. “Well, um, I didn’t really get to see you very well. Last night, I mean,” she said, suddenly finding it easier to direct her gaze at his pocket square rather than his face. “And … I guess I’m just curious.”

“Oh, I see,” said Lucifer, sounding delighted. When she met his eyes again, he was – of course – smirking. “Well, I’m always happy to indulge your curiosity, Detective. Plus, I seem to recall you thought I was quite _impressive_.”

“Go visit your brother and your nephew,” she said, rolling her eyes fondly. “I’ll call you.”

“And then maybe we can set up a time for you to observe and examine me to your heart’s content,” he returned, even as he started back toward his car. “It would be my pleasure, Detective!”

~~  
Epilogue, Part 2  
(Some Nebulous Post-Season 4 Time Period)

Chloe was enough of a realist to know that this was a really, really bad situation. Possibly the worst she’d ever gotten herself into, in fact.

She had been tending toward reckless in her behavior lately (for a while now, ever since a certain celestial partner of hers had left her to return to the duties he loathed). If it weren’t for that tendency, she would very likely have avoided this situation. She admitted that, too, as she continued to try to free herself from the ropes around her wrists. But here she was, having been ambushed and overpowered by the branch of the Russian mob she’d been investigating for weeks now. Her new partner, whom she’d tried to get along with but who just wasn’t a great fit (not as good as her last partner – but then, who could be? As he himself would have told anyone who asked. If he were here), had no idea where she was, in all likelihood. She wouldn’t even miss Chloe until tomorrow morning. And Mikhail, the second-in-command of this particular group and the guy in charge of this operation, had already gotten rid of Chloe’s phone. She was in serious trouble.

Just as she was having that realization, she heard one of the men in the van get closer to her. She was gagged and her whole head was covered by a fabric bag of some kind, but it wasn’t dark enough to block out all the light. She turned toward the sound and shadow as someone loomed over her.

“Hey. You stop moving.”

It was Viktor. Chloe froze, steeling herself for whatever he would do next. Viktor was the least stable of any of this group of mobsters, and the most prone to violence. He’d already struck her across the face before she was tied up.

“Good,” Viktor said, drawing out the word. He climbed over the back seat, so he could crouch over her. “Now. Let’s see you.”

Chloe couldn’t keep herself from flinching when something – she guessed it might be the muzzle of his gun, prodded her in the ribs. Then it moved up, just a few inches, very slowly. Her skin crawled.

“ _Da_ , you are pretty, I guess,” he said, as he kept touching her with the gun. “But--”

“Viktor!” came Mikhail’s voice, a sharp command, just as Chloe was considering how much of a risk it would be to roll away from him as far as possible in this confined space. Then the boss continued the command in Russian.

Grumbling, Viktor withdrew, and then clambered back over the seat. Chloe let out a small sigh of relief, around the cloth in her mouth. So she was going to be left alone until they got to wherever they were taking her, then. That was a small mercy.

The van went off-road sometime not too long after that. She could tell by how much more she was getting bounced and jostled around. She tried not to dwell on how that made it even more unlikely she would ever be tracked down, instead continuing to focus on loosening the ropes on both her wrists and ankles.

Unfortunately, by the time the van stopped, all she had accomplished was to give herself sore wrists, along with a tiny bit of slack in the ropes. She was all but out of time. That meant it was time for last-ditch efforts. She took as deep of a breath as she could with the bag over her face. When the back door of the van opened, she waited until she could see two shadows loom over her, and then launched herself out at them. Her head hit one of them in the stomach, but the other one caught her and pushed her roughly backward. She collided painfully with the edge of the open door. But whoever was grabbing her arm at least kept her from falling to the ground while they cut the ropes on her ankles. “Come,” Mikhail commanded then, and the man holding her dragged her to her feet.

A short while later, the bag was pulled off her head, and Chloe blinked repeatedly in the fading light. She was, as she had guessed, out in the desert in the middle of nowhere. And all six of the mobsters were standing in front of her, grinning, while Mikhail’s buddy Viktor – the biggest one, the meanest one – cocked his weapon.

“I wonder how long it will be before LAPD finds your body?” Mikhail asked idly. “I think a long time. We choose this place because no one comes here.”

Chloe allowed her gaze to travel over her surroundings for a few seconds, even as her heart continued to plummet. Yes, this place was in the middle of the desert - but not only that, there were no landmarks around that stood out. There was no reason anyone would just happen across her body out here. Trixie would never know what happened to her mother. Dan wouldn’t know. And Lucifer… If Lucifer ever came back…

She made herself straighten her spine and meet the eyes of her captors, even as a tear rolled down her cheek. _I’m sorry, Trixie_ , she thought, picturing her daughter’s sweet, smiling face. _I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have let this happen. And Lucifer…_

“You don’t try to beg.” Mikhail nodded once. “I respect this, Detective. For this, we will bury you instead of leaving you to birds.”

Chloe swallowed. That was not really comforting – not that it was meant to be. She felt one more tear escape. _Lucifer, I’m sorry_ , she continued her thought. She had talked to him before, of course, many times. She had read about people praying to angels, but she had no idea if it worked for fallen ones. But she owed him one more try, regardless. _I’m sorry I never got to see you again while-- while I was still on Earth._ From everything he’d said to her over the years, she knew he was certain she would never end up in Hell. But maybe … maybe it was possible. And wasn’t it insane, that she was spending some of her last seconds alive _hoping_ that she might end up in Hell?

At that moment, the ground shook under them. They all staggered, but since Chloe didn’t have her hands free to help keep her balance, she fell onto her side while the mobsters all let out cries of alarm. Then the ground shook one more time – and split open, right behind the Russians. There was a thunderous roar, and then a huge, winged form rose out of the chasm. It soared into the air long enough for the setting sun to hit its enormous wings and make its red scales glitter, and then it – _he, oh my God, it was him_ – turned around and dove. “GET AWAY FROM HER!”

The mobsters, all screaming and beyond terrified, scattered. Viktor was still holding his gun, Chloe saw with a flash of panic (was he still vulnerable because she was here, could a bullet hurt him in this form?), but even as the man tried to turn and aim his shaking hands toward the dragon, Lucifer exhaled a burst of flame right at the weapon. It caught fire and melted, and as for Viktor’s hands… The mobster’s agonized scream was lost in another roar from Lucifer. Seconds later, Viktor had taken off in the same general direction as most of his companions. Lucifer gave chase for a while, but only long enough to make sure all of them were gone. Then he wheeled around and landed a few yards away from Chloe. The earth shook again, just a bit, as he came to rest.

“Detective,” said the dragon, folding his wings and regarding her with clear concern, “Chloe, are you all right? Have they hurt you?”

Chloe wanted to answer him – God, she _needed_ to talk to him – but there was still a damn gag in her mouth. She shook her head once, and awkwardly rolled into a sitting position.

“Oh,” said Lucifer, very quiet. He took a hesitant step toward her. “Would you-- would you let me remove that? I would prefer not to transform first, but I will if necessary.”

She blinked and looked down at his claws. They were … well, they were pretty huge. But this was Lucifer. He had never intentionally hurt her. Plus, it seemed like he was comfortable and familiar with this form now. She wanted to ask about that – she wanted to ask about a lot of things. To get there, though, she needed to get rid of this gag. So she nodded, and made sure she was sitting still.

“All right,” said the dragon. He came closer, and then raised what would be his right hand if he-- if he’d been in human form right now. Chloe watched its progress toward her face. One talon snagged ever so gently in the fabric of the gag where it crossed her cheek, and pulled just as gently. Within a few seconds, it had slipped down to hang around her neck.

Chloe let out her breath and smiled up at him. “Thank you,” she tried to say, but her throat was too dry for much sound to come out. She coughed and tried without much success to clear her throat.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was looking at her with a gaze that should have been impossibly soft for such a creature. “Are you all right, Detective?” he asked again. That claw that was longer (and no doubt sharper) than Maze’s most wicked blade brushed over the bruises on her cheek and jaw. The touch was so light that she shivered.

“I’m okay,” she rasped. It was still only starting to sink in: he was here, for real, standing in front of her after having saved her life in possibly the most dramatic way possible. How had he known she needed him right then? Had he heard her rambling, desperate prayer?

“I can get rid of those ropes for you as well,” he was saying, “if you can extend your arms a bit further.”

Chloe caught up to what he’d just said, and nodded quickly. “Oh. Um, yeah. Just let me...” She turned her back to him, extending her arms as best she could at that awkward angle and also pulling her wrists as far apart as she could manage, to give him more of a target. The rope gave way just a few seconds later. She shook it off and turned back around. She was about to thank him again when a terrible thought struck her. “You-- you’re not just going to leave again now, are you?”

“Detective, you’re out in the middle of a Dad-forsaken desert, with night about to fall and no means of transportation out of here – except your kidnappers’ van, which you’d have to hotwire,” he said. “I’m not going to leave you to face that by yourself.”

“Oh.” She blinked back useless tears. “Okay.” That was good news. She noted that he hadn’t promised to stick around after he helped her get back to civilization, but still. It was good news.

“The question is,” he went on, drawing himself away from her a little bit and rustling his wings, “what sort of, ah, transportation you’d like me to provide.”

“Oh,” she said again, very eloquently. Was he implying he would give her a ride on his back, if she asked? Then she covered a yawn with one hand. “Sorry.” The adrenaline was fading, leaving her more exhausted than she’d been in a long time. “Maybe … maybe whatever’s fastest? I’m pretty wiped out.”

“Of course.” There was a strange, muffled sound, and then with no intermediate stage he was standing on two legs, in human form, dressed in black from head to toe. But he didn’t stay upright for long. In fact, he leaned over, resting his hands on his thighs like he had all those months ago, after he’d first transformed back into a human from his dragon form. She could see him sway and then stumble.

“Are you okay?” She made as if to move toward him, but he held up a hand without looking up.

“I’ll be fine … in a moment, Detective,” he said between panting breaths. “It just … requires some adjustment, every time I do this.”

Biting her lip, Chloe waited until he had recovered. He had just done this, all of this, for her. Without complaining or protesting in any way. God, they really needed to have a long conversation. Assuming he didn’t fly back down to Hell as soon as she was safe, of course.

Before she could figure out what to say, he stood up. Then he came over and held out a hand to help her stand. Chloe felt a lump in her throat as she took his hand and let him pull her up. It had been so long since she’d last seen him, since she’d last felt his hand. But she didn’t want to completely fall apart – not here, not yet. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly and swallowed hard. “Now what?” she asked hoarsely, looking at his face.

“Well, you won’t remember since you were unconscious, but I’ve actually carried you this way once before,” he said. A second later, his wings were extended – the same beautiful white wings she’d seen just before he had left her on that balcony. They were just as breathtaking now. And her memories had been correct: they shone in the gathering darkness. “All you have to do is let me hold onto you. I’ll do the rest.”

Right. Of course. That was the only thing that would make any sense (if any of this could be said to make sense). So she was just going to have to try not to burst into tears while Lucifer held her in his arms and flew her back to safety, since that would probably be pretty distracting for him. This was fine. She could do this. Nodding, Chloe stepped closer. “Okay.”

She was – “gratified” wasn’t quite the right word, but something like that, when she heard his breathing hitch as he wrapped his arms around her and she reciprocated by putting her arms around his neck. So he was definitely dealing with some emotional turmoil right now, too. At very least, if he was planning to leave again after they got back to the city, it wasn’t going to be easy for him.

“Are you ready?”

She tried to take a deep breath. He smelled the same as she remembered, although she wasn’t sure if she was imagining an added hint of brimstone. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Um, go ahead.”

With that, he lifted her into his arms, and a few beats of his wings lifted them off the ground. And then there was a rushing sound, and the world around them disappeared and everything got very disorienting – only for it all to reappear in moments as he landed them on that same balcony at Lux. Chloe blinked, and her ears popped.

Lucifer folded his wings. “All right for me to let go now, Detective?”

Chloe couldn’t help it. It was almost involuntary, how her grip on him tightened. And then she was burying her face in his neck, and the tears she had held back before started to pour out of her. She didn’t want him to let go. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let go of him without a fight.

“Ah,” said Lucifer, and the way she could feel his voice resonate through her as well as hear it just made her sob even harder. She had missed him so damn much. “Well. In that case...” He trailed off, and made no move to release her as he carried her to the door, somehow managing to open it (hadn’t she locked it at some point?) with one hand. And then, muttering something under his breath as they passed his bed and came down into the main room of the penthouse, he also managed to pull the sheet off the couch before sitting down, still holding onto her. All he did was gently rearrange her so that she could rest her legs on the couch. Then he just waited until her tears finally stopped, and handed her his handkerchief.

Chloe wiped her face and got her breathing back under control. When she looked up, he was still there, and still looking at her with an expression of quiet amazement and longing. Very slowly, as if he were sure she would move to stop him at any moment, he reached out his hand, and laid it on the side of her face that wasn’t bruised. She closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. “This is real,” she whispered, voice still hoarse.

“Yes, it is,” murmured Lucifer.

They sat together for some length of time, quiet, simply soaking up each other’s presence. And then she felt him take a deep breath. “So,” he said, with a somewhat anxious smile at her, “you need some first aid, and I’m guessing you’re dehydrated and exhausted. There’s also the matter of the case I interrupted. But after that’s all taken care of, where would you like to begin?”

~~  
Several hours later, after a shocked Daniel had come over, gotten all the details that the Detective deemed useful from her kidnapping, and agreed with Lucifer’s insistence that Chloe get some rest and get her injuries treated (she refused to go to the hospital, which was frustrating but understandable) – and also after Daniel had asked him, point-blank, whether he could tell Trixie that Lucifer was back, because she’d still been asking about him several times a week, _and_ after a furious Maze had showed up, stormed in, and shouted at him for a solid twenty minutes before eventually being pacified by his apology and the promise that he would never leave her behind again…

After all of that, the Detective was still here, lying on his couch with two ice packs – one for the bruises on her face, and one for some on her back. (He hadn’t seen those bruises, but the way she had sighed in relief upon leaning back against the second ice pack made him want to go hunt down those Russians in dragon form and do worse than terrify them.) She was also slowly making her way through her second large glass of icewater.

Lucifer had found one of his more expensive bottles of scotch (his personal supply of alcohol seemed to have been stored carefully, which was a pleasant surprise), poured himself a tumblerful, and sat down in the chair next to his couch. He took a few slow sips, closing his eyes in sheer pleasure at the taste in comparison to the slop he’d been drinking in Hell. But he didn’t really relax. He couldn’t. Not even now, now that he was sure that he had responded to the Detective's prayer in time and that she was safe. Part of that was the jarring transition between Hell and Earth, which always took a while for him to adjust to. Truly letting down his guard wasn’t a thing he could do in Hell. Most of it, however, was because of the question he knew she was going to ask.

“So,” said Chloe, breaking the silence, “I heard you told Dan it was okay to tell Trixie that-- that you’re back. Does that mean you’re staying?”

He took a breath, and another drink of scotch, and stared at the floor. That was it. “I can’t stay for good, Detective. Chloe. As much as I want to.”

She gasped a little, and Lucifer waited for the inevitable next question. “What does that mean? Are you-- are you just going to disappear for another eight months?”

Eight months. Lucifer sat back in his chair and set down his glass. “Is that how long it was, up here?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Almost to the day.”

“Time – it moves so differently down there,” he told her with another sigh. It was possible for him to keep track of time’s passage on Earth while he was below, but it was also not something he generally kept up for very long. The knowledge of how much he was missing was just an added torment. “One moment stretches on forever, and the next one is the same as the last, and--” He cut himself off with a harsh laugh, finally making himself raise his eyes to hers again. “I mean, it is Hell, after all.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Lucifer...”

“I know I keep not answering,” he said. “I’m sorry. I would give you a direct answer if I could, Detective. All I know for sure right now is, I’ll need to go down and check on things regularly, and if it looks like the demons are getting restless and rebellious again, I’ll have to stay long enough to make them remember who’s in charge.” He frowned into his glass. “So I’ll most likely be coming and going a lot. But I promise I’ll do my very best never to be gone that long again.”

To his shock, when he looked at her again, she was smiling. And not just a small smile, either; she looked positively radiant. Which was the exact opposite of the reaction he’d expected. “Detective,” he said slowly, “why are you looking at me like that?” Was she actually relieved that he wasn’t going to be around all the time? Had he been that badly mistaken about her feelings for him? Or was this all part of some horrifically creative Hell loop, somehow?

“Because you’re not going back permanently!” she said, still smiling. “You get to stay part of the time. I-- I just assumed, or I was scared that this was a short visit, to make sure I got away from the Russians, and then you’d be gone again.” She laughed, although he could hear the tears in the sound. “Lucifer, I’m so glad!”

 _Oh._ Well, that was… That was a much nicer way of looking at things, to be sure. Lucifer returned the smile. But then her face crumpled, and she put one hand to her mouth as another sob escaped. Leaving his drink, Lucifer got up and went to sit down next to her. He wanted to take her into his arms again, but he was afraid he might hurt her back. “I’m sorry,” he said, knowing the words were inadequate. He took her hand, and she held onto it tightly.

“No, no, I’m not--” She inhaled, and wiped her eyes with her other hand. “I’m not complaining. It’s just … I missed you so much, every single day.”

His sigh was very shaky as he confessed, “I missed you every single hour, every minute down there, Chloe. I hope you know that.”

She gave him a watery smile, and leaned against his shoulder. Silence fell for a few more seconds. Then she ran a hand down his sleeve, and clearly moved to change the subject. “So, I notice you didn’t end up naked when you transformed back this time. And you’re all in black.”

“Ha. Yes, well-spotted, Detective,” said Lucifer. She would notice those details, wouldn’t she? “I decided very quickly after I got back down to Hell that while my dragon form would be quite useful for intimidating particularly stubborn demons, I needed to be able to be clothed when I transformed back. Nudity isn’t all that fun in Hell. But since it’s all connected to my own will and my ability to self-actualize, there was nothing preventing me from getting better at the transformation, as well as creating myself a suit.” He shrugged, oddly self-conscious now that he was talking about all of this out loud. “Black, well … it fit with the environment.”

She regarded him seriously. “I guess it would.” Then her eyes widened. “Wait a minute – is there still a huge chasm thing out there in the desert that, that’s open all the way to Hell?”

At that, he laughed outright. His first real laugh since coming back. “Don’t worry, Detective. It will have closed up since I left the vicinity. No vultures or scorpions or unwary Russians will make an accidental entry into Hell.” When those mobsters did make that trip, it would be intentional and inevitable.

“Oh. Good.” She took another sip of water, and then yawned. “Sorry.”

“Detective, you’ve had a long and very trying day,” he pointed out, noting not for the first time how dark the shadows were under her eyes. “I would be happy to take you back to your apartment for some well-deserved sleep. Or … or you could stay here, if you preferred.”

She yawned again, but shook her head. “Much as saying it makes me sound like my daughter, I’m not ready for bed yet. We have too much to talk about.”

“Very well,” said Lucifer lightly, “but I reserve the right to say I told you so, if you fall asleep in the middle of our conversation.”

“That seems fair.” She smiled, and then settled herself with a slight wince so that she was resting against both the back of the couch and his shoulder.

“So...” Lucifer reached out for her hand again, and she took it once more. “How is your little urchin, anyway? Has she really been asking after me?”

“Oh, only every other day,” said Chloe. “She’s doing okay. Causing mostly just the usual amount of mischief, and still enjoying school. But they did just start teaching her grade how to play the recorder, which is...”

“Ugh,” said Lucifer, shuddering. “Terribly sorry to hear that. I mean, hopefully I won’t hear it, since I’ve had more than enough of torture lately.” But it was oddly heartwarming to hear that the Detective’s offspring hadn’t forgotten about him. He would need to figure out how best to answer the little creature when she unavoidably asked what he’d been doing these past eight months. Hearing that she’d been asking about him also reminded him again, more forcefully, that he needed to follow up on his plan for infernal surveillance as soon as he could. It wouldn’t do to put both the Detective’s child and his nephew at any further risk of demonic incursion.

“Lucifer?”

He blinked, and refocused on the present. “Sorry, Detective. Ah, how’s Charlie? Any sign of wings yet? Or a tendency toward being pompous and overbearing like his father?”

Chloe elbowed him and shook her head. “No wings yet. And he’s eight months old, so not a lot of personality yet, either. But he’s a good kid. Linda says he’s letting them sleep through most of the night already.”

“How angelic of him,” Lucifer commented. The fact that Charlie and his parents were at peace enough to sleep was good news, though. Very good. No doubt Amenadiel would be concerned when he heard from Maze that Lucifer was back on Earth, but Lucifer could reassure him in person. And possibly run his idea by his brother, too – not that he needed Amenadiel’s approval, but still.

“Everyone at the precinct has been missing you, too, you know,” said the Detective, after another brief pause.

Lucifer thought of all the people he’d come to know there, and felt a pang. A number of them had likely been reassigned, or moved, or even retired or quit, since the last time he was there. “Even Daniel?” was the only thing he asked, though.

“In his own way, yes,” was her prompt response. She sighed. “They assigned me a new partner. She’s … okay, I guess.” Before he could begin to react to that, she nudged him again and smiled. “She’s no you, but then, who else could be?”

“Nobody, of course,” he said, grinning back. It probably was a sign of something, just how relieved he was right then that she even missed him on the job. Figuring out if there was a way for him to be her partner again was a whole other issue, though. One for later. “And Miss Lopez? Is she still gathering all the evidence and helping you lot crack cases?”

“She is,” Chloe confirmed. “You, uh, you might be in for a little more yelling when you next see her, just so you know. She was pretty miffed when you disappeared without explanation.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

The Detective yawned once again a few seconds later. But Lucifer didn’t get a chance to suggest again that she should go home to sleep. Instead, she sat up enough to remove the now-melted ice pack from her back and set it on the floor. Then, after giving Lucifer a strange look that he couldn’t interpret, she said, “Scoot that way a little bit, would you?”

“All right,” he assented, raising an eyebrow as he did so. She hadn’t seemed to mind his closeness before.

But then she stunned him by taking the blanket from the back of the couch, and then lying down with her head in his lap. “You can go ahead and say that ‘I told you so’ now, if you want,” she said with what could only be described as a smirk, before closing her eyes.

“Why, Detective--” he started to say, very pleased and surprised at her boldness as he spread the blanket out over her, but she cut him off.

“Shh. Trying to sleep here.”

“Of course. Sorry,” he whispered theatrically. “Good night, Chloe.”

“G’night, Lucifer,” she murmured, already sounding drowsy.

Once he was sure she was asleep, Lucifer very carefully repositioned her just a bit, for the sake of his comfort as well as hers. Then he sighed and leaned back, shutting his own eyes. He could stand to get some rest himself. With the woman he loved right here, he was sure that wouldn’t be difficult.

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten that Chloe still hasn't had a real chance to see Lucifer in his dragon form, with nothing else in the way...
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's reading, commenting, and leaving kudos!


	5. Epilogue, Part III

~~  
After their tearful reunion (Chloe wasn’t the least bit ashamed to have cried, both in front of him and in front of her family and friends), and after being ordered to take two weeks’ mandatory leave time from work that was in turn allowing several days of oh-so-desperately-needed quality time, just her and Lucifer, Chloe remembered the conversation she and Lucifer had had after his kidnapping by the Order of the Dragon. She smiled, recalling how he had reacted when she confessed to wanting to see more of his dragon form.

And then, as she thought about it some more, Chloe came to a conclusion: she _still_ hadn’t really gotten to see him. Not enough, anyway. Sure, his timing had been impeccable out in the desert, appearing right when she needed him most. And she had even gotten one amazing glimpse of him in mid-flight. But it had been dark, just like in that warehouse. Plus, she had been just a tiny bit distracted by the trauma of almost having been executed by Russian mobsters.

But now they were both safe … and if not completely recovered from their long separation, they were on the way. They’d had many good, honest conversations with each other. They’d also finally had the chance to do significantly more than just talk (nice though the talking was). And while Lucifer had made quick trips back to Hell every other day for the past four days, he had reported no signs of any trouble. He had also told her a little bit more about the plan he was hoping to put into motion, which would cut down on his need to make physical trips between Earth and Hell. One of his other brothers was helping, but it would take some time to get it ready.

Now, the two of them were alone at one of Lucifer’s properties. This one was a private beach house that was, surprisingly, not big enough to host a gigantic party for scantily-clad beachgoers. In fact, it was intimate and almost cozy. But the main attraction was definitely the long stretch of private beach. Chloe loved it immediately.

She was currently sitting on the porch swing of the beach house, in shorts and a tank top, facing the beach with Lucifer right beside her. He was in khakis and a partially unbuttoned white blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Their third morning together here had been leisurely and sweet. Now, she was theoretically supposed to be reading a book on her Kindle, while Lucifer read the last _Hunger Games_ novel (an actual paper copy – he disdained ebooks, apparently). But instead, she was just staring at him, the Kindle lying forgotten on her lap.

“Chloe, darling,” said Lucifer then, not looking up from his book, “I know I’m devastatingly handsome, but you’ve been staring at me for a good five minutes. Is there something I can do for you?”

Blushing a little and rolling her eyes, Chloe set her Kindle down on the swing. “I was just … wondering.”

“About what?” Lucifer marked his spot in the book with the unicorn bookmark Trixie had made in school last week. (She had insisted on giving it to Lucifer after she had asked what they were going to do on their vacation together, and Chloe had hastily prevented Lucifer from answering first by saying they were going to rest, and do lots of fun things, but that they might be taking some time to relax and read as well.) He set down the book, giving her his full attention.

“Well,” said Chloe. She was determined that she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about this. After all, Lucifer’s whole thing was listening to people tell him their desires. And this was one of hers. “You know, we never really got that chance for me to, um, observe you in dragon form. You rescuing me out in the middle of nowhere doesn’t count – not that I don’t appreciate that wholeheartedly.”

“Yes, we were both rather busy during that whole incident, weren’t we?” he agreed with a nod. “And I do remember when you asked me about that.”

Just then, she recalled how much it seemed to take out of him, when he transformed back into human form out in the desert. “Oh – but I don’t want to ruin the rest of your day, though,” she said quickly. “I know you, um, you had to take a little while to recover last time, when you changed back.”

At that, he raised one eyebrow and reached out to take both of her hands in his. “Detective,” he said, almost reproachful even as his tone grew sultry, “has there been anything that’s happened in these last few days – and let’s not forget the nights – that has given you the impression that I’m not willing to expend some of my energy for you?”

“Well, no,” she admitted, smiling.

“And I very much hope I haven’t given you the impression that I’m not enjoying any and all forms of exercise in which we’ve been indulging,” he went on, releasing her hands so he could more easily lean in and kiss her.

“Also no,” she assured him, when they both drew back. She stroked her hand over his face, still reveling in the fact that they could do this, touch each other whenever they wanted. And he’d made a good point. But there was another thing she needed him to understand, as well. “I see what you’re saying. But this also kind of feels different. I don’t want you to feel like … like I’d be gawking at you like you’re some kind of zoo animal.”

“Ridiculous,” said Lucifer, smiling at her in that focused, singular way that had the potential to break her brain if she thought too long about who this was was looking at her like that. “You would never exploit anyone against their will.” And then he grinned widely, leaning back against the porch swing. “But you know I’m nearly always up for making a spectacle of myself. Also, as I believe I told you when you first brought it up, I’m always happy to help you satisfy your curiosity as well, darling.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.” It seemed like he’d gotten what she was trying to say, anyway.

“So all we need to do is find a place that’s still safe enough from prying eyes – other than yours – while being large enough for my dragon self,” he said, standing up and looking around with a slight frown.

Chloe stood up next to him. “Down on the beach?” she suggested. There would still be a small chance someone could walk down from the fairly well hidden entrance to the property, go around the house, and walk down to the beach while he was transformed, but it was pretty unlikely.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said. He held out a hand, and she took it.

They walked together down onto the sand. The breeze off the water was refreshing without being chilly, but Chloe was glad she’d brought her sunglasses for the glare.

“Yes, this should do it,” said Lucifer, when they were almost at the water’s edge. He let go of her hand, and then went on in a voice that dared her to surprise him, “You can watch or not while I undress, but I’d rather not destroy these clothes if it’s not necessary, so I’ll be taking them off first either way.”

“Um. All right.” Chloe glanced around, doubly relieved at the privacy of their location. Then she crossed her arms and stared at him. “But you know it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, right?”

That made him chuckle. “True enough.” And that was all the further time he took before starting to strip.

Chloe didn’t look away, although she did take a few steps back since he was about to need a lot more space. Not that she thought he wouldn’t take that into account himself.

And in fact, as soon as he had taken off his shirt and khakis, folded them, and put them down on the sand, Lucifer strode a few yards further down the beach. Then he turned to face her. “Right. One dragon, coming up.”

In a matter of seconds, and again with no transitional form that Chloe could see, there was a gigantic red dragon standing at the edge of the water. Chloe’s eyes widened. She took off her sunglasses. Seeing him in broad daylight definitely made a big difference. She came closer. Just like when she’d first seen him in that warehouse, it seemed like her mind was still having a bit of trouble grasping what she was seeing. He was just… Well, it was yet another thing her rational brain had always known was just a myth, now standing in front of her, clearly real. But this time, she wasn’t scared.

“Everything you’d hoped for?” said the huge dragon, and despite his practiced air of confidence (which was not at all lessened in this form), she could tell he was at least a little bit nervous. Which was extremely endearing.

“Definitely,” she told him, reaching out to touch the side of his face. His scales were smooth and very warm. She wondered how his horns would feel. “ _Game of Thrones_ has nothing on you.”

He laughed, sending a gust of warm air over her that reminded her, maybe not too strangely, of the smell and feel of being near an active volcano in Hawaii. It was a clean, hot stone-ish kind of scent, not at all bad. “Now that is a surprising comparison, though not unappreciated,” he said. “Detective, I never thought you were much of a fan of fantasy.”

“I wasn’t,” she said, “until recently.”

“Oh?” Lucifer turned his head so that he was facing her more directly, and then nodded. “I see. Well, it’s good to expand one’s horizons, right?”

“Yep.” Truthfully, it had been one distraction she had used to try to keep herself from going crazy in the months after Lucifer had left. It was obviously a better coping mechanism than some others that she’d tried. She gave herself a mental shake. She didn’t need to be dwelling on that time period right now. “Hey, can I see your wings?”

“Certainly,” he said, and spread them wide.

Chloe took a few steps back, so she could get a better vantage. They were, of course, impressive. His wingspan was vast (she hadn’t yet tried to estimate his overall size in feet). The skin stretched across each one was slightly translucent, but not flimsy-looking at all. They were reminiscent of his devil wings, but more beautiful – though they each also had a long, wicked, black claw where the thumb would be on a bat wing, she thought. She let her gaze travel over all of him again, as he stood at the edge of the surf. Another verse she remembered reading while she was in Rome passed through her mind, this time from Revelation chapter thirteen, she was pretty sure. She shook off those memories as well. “What’s your favorite way to fly?” she asked instead. “As a dragon, or with your angel wings?”

He stopped in the middle of folding the wings he currently had. “Do you know, I’ve never thought about it,” he said. “I suppose they both have their advantages. My angel wings are much more maneuverable in flight, and of course they allow me to travel between realms and between locations in an instant. But these wings – not only do they really complete the look, but they’re wonderful for hunting, soaring, and diving.”

Chloe decided not to pursue any line of thought involving Lucifer hunting in Hell. But she was genuinely interested to hear his different opinions on both kinds of flight. She wondered--

“Would you care to experience this form of flight yourself?”

That brought her up short. She vaguely remembered him asking something sort of similar, after he’d driven away the Russians and gotten rid of her gag and the ropes on her wrists. But today she wasn’t exhausted and traumatized.

Meanwhile Lucifer, of course, misread her silence. “Of course you don’t have to, and I’ll admit I’m not one hundred percent sure about the logistics, so perhaps I shouldn’t have--”

“No, no, I want to,” she interrupted. And as soon as she said it, she felt even more sure. She gave him another, more speculative once-over, and mused, “But I’m just trying to figure out the best _position_ for me in this hypothetical situation.”

There was a second of silence, broken only by the sound of the waves, and then Lucifer closed the distance between them in two strides. “Oh, I’m certain we can figure it out, between the two of us,” he all but purred, face inches from hers. “And when we do, I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it’s the ride of your life.”

Chloe couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up right then, though she also touched both sides of his face at the same time, to make sure he didn’t think for even a moment that she was laughing at him. This was her life – trading innuendos with the man she loved who was currently a dragon, and was also always the Devil. “I believe you. And I look forward to it.”

~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end - of this first part of the series. I have a sequel in the works already, which I hope to start posting soon.
> 
> (In case you're curious, the verse from Revelation 13 that occurs to Chloe is Revelation 13:1.)
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos, comments, and warm welcome into the Lucifer fandom! I've been loving both reading and writing here. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first fic for this fandom! Aaaand it's about dragons, because of course it is.  
> Thanks to Miss M for helping me make sure my Britishisms are correct for Lucifer.  
> Also, if you're curious, the biblical reference is Revelation 12. Quite an interesting chapter (not that there's a boring chapter of Revelation).


End file.
